


What Could've Been

by RMB27



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-24 21:43:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4936414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RMB27/pseuds/RMB27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>King Cailan and Queen Anora. My take on their relationship based on the World of Thedas books and inspired by their young rebellious selves. Warning: Angst. Also, heavily inspired by JayRain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cailan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JayRain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayRain/gifts).



A:N/ I recently got the two World Of Thedas books and have read about the characters of the beloved Dragon Age. I stumbled upon a story about Anora and Cailan as young rebels and can't help but be inspired to write a two chapter story in both POVs. I am entirely in love with their relationship in where it's very angsty and my OTPs tend to be angsty. Also, I don't see a lot of stories that delve into their relationship as both of them being at fault. It's either one of them is this huge asshole and the other is innocent. I honestly believe both of them have had something to do with being completely horrible in their relationship and it makes me sad because I believe that they had so much potential as King and Queen of Ferelden as well as to each other.

Also, I'm very inspired by the author, JayRain, because I believe she has that sense that both of them would've made a wonderful couple if they just tried.

This is going to be only two chapters long, one will be in Cailan's POV and the other in Anora's POV. My goal is to try to write out my feelings about this couple because I just can't with them sometimes.

Withouth further ado, I hope you enjoy, my dear readers.

* * *

 

He remembered when he first talked to her. At nine-years old, she didn't do much. But, he was only five, so who was he to judge.

She was sitting by herself in his late mother's gardens, reading a book. He saw long blonde hair that was pulled back on the side and wrinkled eyebrows as her clear blue eyes scanned the pages. She was dressed in white and he remembered thinking of how  _ethereal_  she looked. Like Andraste reincarnated.

Anora. He remembered the day his Uncle Loghain brought her to the capital. He was five years old and she was nine. His father told him to be nice because Anora was new and didn't have many friends, so Cailan took it upon himself to be nice. He had smiled at her, that smile that usually got him out of trouble.

But, one cold look from those eerie blue eyes and Cailan clamped up.

It wasn't long before the other noble children began complaining about her and how quiet she was and how she refused to play with them. But, Cailan had always been curious, watching her, and turning around whenever she caught his gaze.

"Cailan, come on. Let's go already." The voice of Thomas Howe interrupted his thoughts and Cailan sheepishly turned to the group of friends that had been playing behind him.

"Uh, I don't feel like it…" Cailan said, his grey eyes darting back and forth to the girl dressed in white and to his friends.

Thomas seemed to catch it and he sneered. "Oh come on, Cailan. She won't even bother talking to you. She's, what my dad says, an  _old hag_." The group of boys seemed to snicker at the term.

Cailan hesitated and turned his full attention to the boys, but he really didn't want to go. His father had been adamant about staying in the gardens until he came back.

Plus, if he disobeyed, his father might leave him alone again.

Cailan shuddered at the thought.

Thomas sensed Cailan's hesitancy and rolled his eyes, "You're the prince. It's not like—"

"He said he didn't feel like going." A curt voice cut Thomas off and Cailan found himself turning around.

The book was placed beside her and she was walking towards them with her head held high and those clear eyes glaring daggers at Thomas.

Thomas paled, slightly, but he stood his ground.

"Oh, wow, Cailan, I guess you need someone to help you talk." Thomas sneered. The boys snickered behind him.

"Are you dense? He already told you he didn't want to go. I simply repeated what he said." Anora stated. Cailan couldn't help but think of how her voice sounded like a bard's warm lullaby.

The boys snorted at that and they immediately clamped their hands on their mouths when Thomas turned to glare at them. With one last 'hmph', Thomas took his leave and the boys followed, sheepishly.

Cailan watched them go, frozen. Anora sighed after a moment before walking back to her stone bench and resumed her reading.

It took a moment, but Cailan walked towards the busy girl and watched as she looked up as if confused as why there was a sudden shadow blocking her lighting.

He saw the flicker of surprise in her eyes and Cailan knew that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't be that bad.

"Thanks." He said, smiling slightly at her. Anora stared at him for a moment and Cailan could feel the heat creeping on his face. The blushing must've shone because Anora's pink lips curved in a small smile before she returned her attention to her book.

Cailan didn't take it as a brush-off, so he sat down next to her.

"What are you—"

"Why didn't you go with them?" Anora cut him off, not even looking at him as her eyes were glued on her book.

Cailan paused at her curtness, but he found himself replying, easily, "My father said not to leave the gardens."

Anora looked at him and then returned her attention to her book, "Smart."

Warmth coursed through his body at the abrupt compliment and Cailan felt at ease next to the girl with the icy eyes and cold demeanor.

"You think so?" Cailan asked, wanting to hear more of her voice.

"I said it, didn't I?" Anora asked, more like stated. Cailan felt himself getting embarrassed, but he was still so curious. A curse that apparently every Theirin boy had and that had gotten them all in trouble from what Uncle Loghain said.

"What are you reading?" Cailan asked, suddenly, his curiosity getting the best of him. Anora sighed, softly, but she answered him, "About the Grey Wardens. It's a history book."

Cailan started to feel excited. "Can you tell me more about it? I can't read those type of books yet."

He watched as Anora, in disbelief, placed down her book on her lap and turned to face him. The surprised expression on her face made his face feel like he was about to burn like when his Uncle Loghain stared at him.

"You want to hear about what I'm reading?" She asked, softly. Cailan couldn't help but think of how beautiful it sounded.

"Y-yeah! My mother used to read to me when I was a baby. That's what the servants say, I mean. I don't know…I k-kinda just like hearing about books and all." Cailan mumbled, sheepishly, averting his eyes from her gaze.

He heard the reshuffling of papers and a light cough, "Well, I'm reading about griffons and Grey Wardens. So, what would you like to know?" Anora asked, quietly.

Cailan felt the clamp that he set up open and he began to ask and ask. Yes, he remembered that day. It was the day that Anora Mac Tir became his best friend.

* * *

* * *

 

He remembered the days when he truly knew Anora Mac Tir.

They were inseparable since then. Cailan would always look forward to ending his lessons just to play with Anora. They got into all kinds of trouble because of their adventures. Getting into wine cellars and running into the forest with mabaari pups, it's what Cailan looked forward to everytime he saw her face light up when she saw him coming closer.

She always had something interesting to do. One time, he had caught her practicing archery, but she had been caught by her father, his own Uncle Loghain, and was scolded for skipping her lessons.

Cailan had watched silently as she bowed her head and stared at the ground, listlessly.

He comforted her after. They were seated on that stone bench in his late mother's garden.

"He doesn't understand." Anora sighed, playing with her hands. Cailan, taking it upon himself to cheer his best friend up, placed his head on her lap, lazily, looking up at her, who seemed a bit taken aback by the affection.

"I understand, Ana." He said, playing with a blonde strand of hair that fell from her braids.

He smiled at her then. She always smiled back. That smile, it was really the Anora he knew back then.

It was the Anora he always wanted to have with him at all times.

She was there when his father merely passed by him when he went to show him something cool. It was cold, snowy day and Anora had pulled him aside and brought him outside on their stone bench, all cuddled up against each other.

"He's just busy, that's all." Anora assured him.

"I guess." Cailan responded, blankly, shuffling his feet.

The cold wetness from a snowball woke him up. He faced Anora and he saw the mischievous grin on her face.

He forgot his father soon after.

Anora loved swordplay.

Cailan remembered when he had caught her with a wooden sword in hand and a practice dummy on the other side of the training grounds. He watched her in awe because he knew she probably couldn't sense him.

She had screamed once when he crept from behind her. A victory he would never let go as he always reminded and teased her flushed face.

This time, he decided to hold a wooden sword himself.

"Hey, Ana! Watch out!" Cailan roared, running towards her. The blonde girl jumped slightly and she immediately held her sword in a defensive position, colliding into Cailan and knocking the air out of him.

Cailan couldn't remember anything. Only the fact that he was wheezing and the frantic noise of Anora hissing his name.

"Cailan, you fool!" Anora repeated, shaking the boy as if he was unconscious.

Cailan coughed and his cough suddenly turned into laughing. Anora stared at him as if he had gone crazy, but a flash of a relieved smile was on her face when he calmed down.

"Your father's going to kill you if he ever found out." Cailan managed to choke out. Anora's face suddenly turned worried and grim. She began to bite her lip, a habit that Cailan noticed she was beginning to form and a gesture that always had Cailan blushing.

"You're not going to tell him, are you?" Anora whispered, her clear eyes begging him.

Cailan sighed, but smiled, lazily. "Of course not, Ana. It's always you and me and our little secrets." He assured her, his stormy eyes trying to search her face for any relief.

Instead, he got a confusing blush that spread on her face and a flash of embarrassment in her eyes.

Anora coughed and got up, dusting herself off.

Cailan followed suit, but he grabbed her hand and decided that another adventure was waiting for them.

And, for once, Anora followed.

* * *

 

He remembered the day he took that light away from those beautiful clear blue eyes that looked at him with laughter and freedom.

"What do you think you're doing?" A twenty-year old Anora asked him. Cailan ignored her, still pulling on her hand.

"Come on, Ana! I know you want to strike that dummy. The guards are done training and your father and mine are out hunting. We have the whole training grounds to ourselves!" Cailan exclaimed, happily.

Anora sighed, "Cailan, you're sixteen. You only have to wait two more years until your father will begin training you."

Cailan rolled his eyes and snorted, "The old man is just using that excuse so he won't have to teach me until he can use another excuse." The annoyed grimace he made as he clenched Anora's hand made Anora stop him with a hard tug.

Cailan turned around to see why she stopped and he saw the alarm in those clear blue eyes.

"Cailan, you know that's not true. Your father—"

"Yeah, yeah, he loves me. Don't worry, Ana, I get it." Cailan joked, trying to ease the tension. But, of course, there was no fooling Anora, but he thanked the Maker when she relented and let him pull her to their original destination.

When they reached the training grounds, he turned and bowed to her in a mocking manner. "I present to you, your domain, my lady." He announced, his extravagant walk made his long hair whip in the wind and on to his face.

Anora rolled her eyes, but she walked around the grounds, examining the swords in awe.

"They really stocked up this year." She whispered under her breath, her eyes gleaming.

Her golden hair, long and in waves, framed her heart-shaped face, beautifully. Her figure also blossomed as the years gone by reminding Cailan how much his body must be changing also much to his embarrassment.

Cailan watched her, his own heart swelling at the peaceful expression on her face.

She was having a hard time with her father pressuring her to be a perfect lady. Sometimes, Cailan could feel the frustration she felt since both their fathers wanted them to be something that they weren't ready to be.

Especially that marriage.

"He talked to me about it again today." The sound of Anora's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

Cailan grimaced, but he waited, patiently, taking a seat on the side of the weaponry as he watched Anora's profile.

"Talked about how it was time to stop fooling around and building unnecessary calloused hands. He said, 'Anora, you're going to be the future Queen of Ferelden. No more excuses.'" Anora sighed, "Of course, I couldn't get a word in. Just kept on blabbering about how duty over the heart is worth more."

She looked up at him and Cailan's heart clenched at the sadness in those bright eyes that usually held some light. Instead, they were cloudy with weariness and defeat.

Cailan patted the seat next to him, holding his arm out so she could rest her head on his shoulder. She took it, easily fitting in his embrace, and Cailan felt at peace.

"Cailan, I want to run away. I want to discover who I am outside of this court. But, you know I could never leave you…I just…Tell me what to do. You're my best friend. You know me better than anyone." Anora whispered against his shoulder.

Cailan froze. This was it.

He wanted to tell her that he was ready for it. For them.

He knew he loved her. On his 18th birthday, Anora had given him a dwarven-crafted greatsword made of the finest steel. He looked up at her, with the biggest smile, and he couldn't keep it in anymore, "I love you, Ana. I really do." Anora had simply smiled back, the biggest smile that Cailan would ever see, and she kissed his cheek.

She didn't say anything back.

Because he knew what Anora really craved for the moment she talked about Grey Wardens and griffons when they first really began their friendship. The way her voice would change when she talked about the outside world and the tourneys they watched as kids. The way her eyes would light up and her laughter, Maker, her laughter would light up a room.

She may have said she loved him, but he knew that her love wasn't the ones written in history books that usually ended up in tragedy.

It was the love that Queen Rowan had for her King Maric. It was the love that you held for a friend and that you could never let go because that person knew you inside and out.

But, it wasn't the love that King Maric had for his Katriel, no. That was  _his_  love for her.

And, in that moment, Cailan said the words that would seal the impending doom of any tragic love story.

He chose to be selfish. He chose not to watch another retreating back walk away from him.

"Ana, stay with me. Don't leave. I'll make you happy to the point that you won't crave anything else. Please, I…I need you." Cailan said, his lips pressed on her forehead.

His heart began to beat, fast. Was it guilt? Was it happiness?

Anora chose to look up at him and his heart caught in his throat. She smiled at him, the most utterly heart-breaking smile of acceptance.

"Okay, Cailan. For you." She said, still smiling  _that_ smile.

She rested her head against the crook of his neck and sighed, but Cailan was frozen.

He saw her eyes and those eyes that once held the light of impossibility had the shattering shadow of the limited.

She chose to stay for him, but her heart, surely, was somewhere else.

* * *

 

He remembered the guilt that began to eat away at him.

Anora wasn't the same again. She didn't practice swordplay anymore. She attended her lessons, readying herself to be a queen so Cailan rarely saw her.

He remembered when he finally got to see her. His heart stopped beating as his eyes were trained on the woman before him.

Twenty-three and at her prime, Anora will always be ethereal in his eyes. But, gone was the long blonde hair that he would run his hands through it as she talked and the smile that she held when he would joke around with her, her hair was now coiled in braids at the back of her neck and her face was stoic and grim.

Those eyes that once held the light that he looked forward to was now gone.

"Cailan," she greeted him with a trained smile, her light voice was now gone and replaced with a curt tone and proper feeling, "It's been too long."

Cailan gulped and he could feel the shadow of his conscience torturing him.

_Look at her. This is what you did to her. You caused this. She's miserable because you begged her to stay, you pathetic fool._

"Ana—"

"Anora is more appropriate, Cailan. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble." She stated, her head tilted at him in a prim manner.

Cailan clenched his fists, but he remained calm. He had asked for this, begged really, and this is what he'll have to deal with.

It wasn't Anora's fault. And that's what broke his heart.

"Anora," the sound of her full name sounding foreign to him, "would you like to accompany me to the training grounds or the gardens?" Cailan asked, hoping that maybe, just maybe, they could simply be Cailan and Ana again.

"Anora! Your lessons!" Loghain's voice echoed throughout the hallway. Cailan winked at her and began to cup his hands to yell something back, but the sudden grab of his arm stopped him and he looked at her, shocked. He froze when he noticed her eyes.

She looked away.

She politely shook her head 'no' before moving to walk away.

"I have other business to attend to, Cailan. I'm sorry." Anora apologized. She was gone before he could say anything.

He stood there, for however long, and stared at the looming hallway.

Hurt. Sadness. Confusion.

It was all there. He saw it even though she tried to hide it. For Anora Mac Tir was his best friend and the girl he loved, but alas, those clear blue eyes couldn't even meet his stormy gaze anymore.

* * *

 

He remembered the day she almost came back to him.

He had lost his father at sea. The Landsmeet was going on while Cailan had little time to mourn his father, let alone chant a prayer.

"Cailan," Anora's voice wafted throughout his room, "Cailan, are you here?"

Cailan responded by pulling the blanket over his head.

"Not now, Anora." He replied, curtly, hoping she would leave him alone. He didn't deserve her comfort. He didn't deserve any kindness she would offer to him.

A sense of relief washed over him when a pale hand pulled the blankets away and he was met with the face that he missed.

It would never change the fact that he missed her. He craved it. He craved her.

What a sick man he was.

"Hey," she whispered, smiling sadly at him, "Is there room for another?"

Cailan watched her, guarded and a bit surprised, "Anora, I don't think-"

A hand on top of his mouth stopped him and Cailan's grey eyes widened once he met her determined gaze. A gaze he missed so much in the passing years.

"I'm tired of thinking, Cailan. Let's just…Let's just be Cailan and Ana again. Just this once." Anora whispered, her eyes betraying a sense of her hopefulness.

Cailan didn't think. He pulled her into his embrace and held her until his tears dried up.

He wanted to beg her to not only have this one moment, but to have many more moments like this, just them.

But, he didn't have any right. She lost her freedom because he begged her to be with him.

So, what right did he have to ask for anything more?

* * *

 

He remembered how he failed her. How he began to.

They got married, quickly. Cailan indulged himself with wine, ignoring the looks of concerned noblemen and gossiping maids. He didn't even try to meet the eyes of his new bride, who seemed to be trying to get his attention.

It wasn't until an abrupt grab from his Uncle Loghain that ushered him into his room that woke him up.

"Father, that's not necessary!" Cailan heard Anora hiss when the doors to their room were closed and he was thrown on to the bed.

"He was making himself look like a drunkard. He was going to embarrass you already!" Loghain hissed back, angrily.

"He's  _not_  his father. Leave him be." Anora said, a little bit loudly. Cailan then heard the sound of shuffling and a loud bang at the door.

Cailan heard a sigh and the sound of a bit of sniffling. His heart began to beat and he urged himself to sit up.

"A-Ana?" He slurred, trying to sit up and clear his head.

The sound of sniffling seemed to stop and a gentle hand was pressed against his chest.

"Sh, it's okay, Cailan. Just rest." The sound of Anora's soothing voice lulled him to lay back down.

But, he held on to her arm and he couldn't find it in himself to let go.

"Ana, I'm sorry. Please forgive me." Cailan whispered, hoping that she could hear him.

"Cailan, sh, no need to be sorry. If you wanted to get drunk, It's understandable. Your father isn't here. You're in pain. I get it." Anora assured him, stroking his forehead and hair.

"No, no, Ana. You're too good to me. You're just too fucking good. That's why I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Cailan began to mutter, incoherently, and the tears began to form in his eyes once more.

The sounds of shifting and blankets being thrown made Cailan move and he felt a warm embrace wrapped around him and he sighed.

"Cailan, rest." That's the only thing she said.

But, throughout the whole night, Cailan could remember the wetness against his forehead and the taste of salt that dribbled on to his lips.

* * *

 

Barren.

That's what they all accused her of.

His own damn uncle had the audacity to suggest that Anora be put aside.

"Leave. Now." Cailan demanded, his face filled with rage.

"Cailan—"

"Get the hell out of my face." Cailan interrupted his uncle, throwing his wine goblet at him.

Arl Eamon scrabbled away, his face contorted with anger as he threw his hands up in defeat. He left with a heavy bang.

Cailan slumped down on the throne, his face in his hands as he tried to calm himself down.

How dare they. They didn't know shit. None of them did.

They didn't see the tears that Anora shed. They didn't hear her cries of anguish when she was by herself. They didn't see her take disgusting potions and try to keep it down.

He didn't even see it. He just knew. The way her eyes were rimmed with red, the way her yells would echo throughout their bedroom when she collapsed in the bathroom and she didn't know he was there, and the way he found empty vials in hidden under bookshelves.

Fuck all of them. And most of all, fuck himself for making her stay.

If he had let her go, she wouldn't have to go through this. She would've slayed dragons at this point, writing letters to him of how great it was to see elven statues that they read about, and glowing so beautiful with her cascading blonde hair.

They had fought more than once already about the impending issue of a heir.

"They're right, Cailan, you know they are." Anora stated, listlessly, her eyes trained on the book on her lap.

"Anora, we're still young. We can keep trying. You know that." Cailan argued, his bulky frame pressed against one of their bedposts.

"It's been almost four years, Cailan. It's an issue." Anora said, remaining passive.

Cailan wanted to pull his hair out. He wanted her to look at him, but at the same time, he wanted her to be happy. To always be happy.

"What do you suggest then, Anora?" Cailan asked, his heart breaking at the sight of her being listless and stoic.

"Mistresses." Was the answer that came out of her trembling lips.

She didn't even look up at him. But, this time, Cailan was going to make her.

He crossed the divide between them and knelt down, grabbing her arms and staring right into those apathetic blue eyes.

"Tell me you're joking, Anora. Tell me this is some sadistic joke that you decided would be funny." Cailan hissed, his angry eyes searching her's.

She stared back at him and whispered, "No."

He got up, then. Letting go of her hands abruptly and had left the room, no words said.

"Your Majesty," an elven messenger came in, holding a letter, "Letter from Orlais. The Empress herself sends it."

Cailan nodded his thanks and received the letter. His eyes widened, and his heart began to pound.

He let the letter fall to the ground and he looked up at the mosaic tiled ceiling. Guess the Maker truly was making his life a laughingstock.

* * *

 

He remembered when he just simply ran away from her.

He stopped sleeping in their bed. He couldn't stand looking at her anymore. All he could think of was how he did this to her.

Instead of hating her father, Anora was looking more up to him, agreeing with how stupid Cailan's rule was turning out to be.

Ha, Cailan couldn't even argue with her there. She was by far the best ruler. She deserved to be king even.

Instead of discussing things with each other-no matter how big or small-, they stopped talking altogether.

Anora would wake up alone. Cailan would wake up to a blonde woman he wished was her.

The letters from Celene were increasing and Cailan didn't even feel anything at this point. He didn't even bother. All he could think of was to set Anora free. That she would be happy somewhere else rather than with him.

Oh, there were smiles exchanged between them, but Cailan would cut it short and he could see the hurt in her eyes. But, he didn't deserve to be happy with her. He did this to her.

He took her away from a life that she truly deserved. Those smiles shouldn't be for him.

"Your Majesty," some blonde woman crooned at him, "come back."

He turned to look at her and he stared at her. But, no, Anora's mischievous icy blues weren't staring back at him. Some other disgusting color that represented his guilt and shame stared back at him.

So, he embraced it and returned to the darkness that he belonged to.

* * *

 

Ostagar.

They said it was a Blight. One so terrible that many people would die because of it.

Cailan agreed to it. His eyes lit up with excitement and his lips moving with some charismatic speech in the Landsmeet, but his clouded gaze met his wife's icy gaze.

And he saw it. The fierce light that she used to carry when they trained together, laughed in each other's arms, or after they made love once upon a time. But, it only lasted for a moment because she looked away.

And, Cailan, well, he hoped that he knew that he was doing this for her.

She could finally be free of him and she could have the freedom she deserves.

* * *

 

"Everyone, leave. I need to speak with my husband." The sound of Anora's airy voice now curt with order and one that fit a queen wafted throughout the war room.

Cailan looked up and so did the noblemen. His shock and surprise shone as he stared at his wife, who stared back at him, unmoving.

"Did you not hear my order? I said leave." Anora repeated, her voice now clearer and adamant.

The noblemen began to scramble at once, leaving King Cailan and General Loghain.

"Father, I would hate to repeat myself." Anora stated, her back straight and her head held high.

Loghain sighed, "Anora, stop this child's pl-"

"I am your queen. You will do as I say." Anora interrupted her father, the cold gaze she gave him cut him off.

Loghain grunted, but did what was ordered of him.

The doors closed with a loud band, leaving King Cailan and Queen Anora of Ferelden in a war room.

"Anora, what is it?" Cailan asked, slowly, not sure of what caused her to act so impulsively.

He watched as she walked up to him, his eyes mesmerized by the sheer beauty of her and how he cursed that effect that she still had on him.

"Do you think I'm a fool?" Anora asked, her eyes still trained on him. Cailan shook his head, cautiously.

"Anora, I—" He was interrupted by a stinging slap that crossed his face. He faced her in shock.

"How dare you." Anora hissed, angrily, her hands now clenched, and her eyes wide.

"Do you think you can just leave just like that? That I'm going to allow you to leave? You told me to stay, Cailan, and I stayed. Don't you dare walk out on me when I fucking didn't." Anora raved, angrily.

"Do you think this is easy for me, Anora? Because it's not. But, I have to. I have to do it for Ferelden. I have to do it for you." Cailan stopped himself once he realized what he began to say.

That seemed to also surprise Anora, her eyes narrowing and her mouth forming into a small 'o'.

"For me? You think that I want you to go out there and have yourself killed? Are you insane?" Anora asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Because you deserve more than me, Anora. Do you not get that by now? I made you stay and I promised to make you happy, but did I, really? I fucking broke it. You're miserable and it's all because I asked you to stay for my selfish desire." Cailan argued back, slamming his fists down against the war table.

Anora flinched, slightly, at that, but her face began to crumble and a hand was placed on her mouth. Cailan began to realize what he did and approached Anora, slowly. He gently grabbed her arms and slowly brought her into his embrace.

She began to curl up her fists and pounded against his chest, angrily. "You're a fool!" She said, repeatedly.

Cailan closed his eyes and tried to hold her, but she managed to push him away and he landed on the floor, painfully.

He waited for her to leave, not even daring to look up at her. He hoped she got it. He hoped she realized that he was right. And then, maybe, this guilt would disappear.

But, the slamming of the door didn't sound and he looked up and saw her, tears streaming down her face and her blue eyes staring straight at him.

And that light. That light had returned in her eyes and he stilled.

"I stayed because I loved you. I always did. And yes, you're right. I wasn't happy on staying and I had to go through hell for staying, but all I had to do was look at you and your smiling face. Do you not get that Cailan? You feel like you failed me? Well, I feel like I failed you. I failed to give you a child. I failed to be a good wife. I failed—"

He cut her off. He grabbed her arm, dragging her down on top of him and he kissed her. He kissed every part of her face, murmuring to her to shut up.

"I love you. I love you. I love you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Cailan whispered against every inch of her skin. He reaffirmed his love with every kiss, every touch, and every sigh.

She came undone under him and he followed after, their cries echoing throughout the war room.

He began to caress her face, wiping the tears away.

"I never deserved you." Cailan whispered, his gaze never leaving her face.

"I should've been more open with you." Anora whispered back, caressing his face.

They stayed like that, whispering their regrets and their love for one each other, basking in the warmth of the sun that shone through the windows with their bodies wrapped around each other for one last time.

* * *

 

He remembered that as the time she almost saved him.

But, she couldn't save him. It was too late. He already made a commitment to Ferelden and to Orlais.

He had explained this to her and she had cried against his chest, begging him to stay and that they would figure it out together and not alone like they tried to do for the last five years.

"This is my fight now. You need to be strong like you've always been, Ana." Cailan stated, as they faced each other one last time.

Anora held on his gauntlets, her hold tightening, as if threatening to burn the gold.

"Ana…how long has it been?" She whispered, her smile showing disdain over the whole situation.

"Too long." Cailan agreed, placing a hand on her cheek.

They stayed like that for a long time before Loghain interrupted them, urgently.

Cailan nodded and he felt Anora's grip tighten. He sighed, his heart growing heavy.

"Ana, remember what I told you about Alistair." Cailan whispered to her, his eyes begging her to understand.

Anora nodded, hesitantly, and her eyes searched his own, "But, that's not needed because you will return to me."

Cailan chuckled, slightly, "Always the stubborn one."

Anora simply stared at him before giving a smile of her own, "You're one to talk."

Cailan pressed his forehead against her's, "I love you, Ana. I truly do."

Anora smiled at him, the smile that he once got when he had told her he loved her on his 18th birthday.

"And I you."

Anora whispered something else. A statement that needed to be answered, an answer he already knew, but he didn't answer.

Cailan let go, hesitantly, and turned to mount his horse. He stared at Anora for a moment who simply nodded in return, her eyes steadfast.

He turned his horse around and began to lead his forces into battle.

He didn't look back, but he could feel the heat of her gaze and he was so tempted to return the look.

But, he couldn't.

He rode on, remembering every moment he had with her. The moments they loved and hated, they cried and hid, and they felt alive and dead.

_I will see you again._

She had said it with so much fervor and love.

But, how would she see him when she deserved to be with the Maker?

And, him? Well, here he was, rejoining his kin, the darkspawn.

She had introduced him to the Grey Wardens and the griffons. How they rode into battle with their mighty beasts. She had sighed, wistfully, about it. She had given him the love for fairytales. And, he had taken them away from her.

Maker, please. Let her free. Let her fly on griffons just so he can see that light in her eyes and that long blonde hair in the wind.

_Give her the life that I took away from her. Even if I can't._

* * *

 

_A:N/ So yeah, that's Cailan's part of how I see him. Not as a stupid arrogant king or an asshole who doesn't know anything, I see him as a simple man who had no relations to his father, only stories, and afraid of anyone he cared about leaving him especially with all the responsibilities he shouldered. I was going to write a part in where he finds out about his brother, but since this is focused on him and Anora, I decided to leave that part out.

The next chapter will be Anora's part especially after Cailan's death, so I hope you stick around for that!


	2. Anora

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A:N// Hello there! So, this is my promised second part of What Could’ve Been, which is my thanks to a particular review and reviewer, TheAwesomeBroNelly. 
> 
> Also, once again, thanks to JayRain for giving me hope for this couple.
> 
> Now, I do not own anything of Dragon Age because I would’ve rewrote Cailan and Anora’s story to at least give some closure to their relationship. Sadly, I don’t have any rights, so I have to keep my feelings in this fic.
> 
> Enjoy! And, I hope you will review

Her father told her to play nice and to look pretty while doing so for the fiftieth time. Anora wanted to turn her horse around and scream.

 

“He’s going to be your future husband, you must talk to him at least, Anora.” Her father said, exasperated.

 

Anora rolled her eyes and scowled and she remembered how her father grimaced at that. Many servants in Gwaren had pointed out their uncanny resemblance when it comes to attitude and the color of their blue eyes, but Loghain had denied it so vehemently that Anora couldn’t help but making him more angry by scowling all the time.

 

At least, he paid attention to her then.

 

They were on their way to the castle and we’re making their way through Denerim. Anora rode on her horse, expertly and proudly. She could hear the surprised, awed whispers of the people when they saw her. She couldn’t help but puff her chest out a little in pride.

 

“He’s younger than me.” Anora retorted, crossing her arms, her little pink lips formed in a pout which she was sure her father would react to by snorting at her childish behavior.

 

She was right. The great General Loghain snorted.

 

“He’s only four years younger than you. Stop being childish.” Loghain admonished, his disappointment clearly shown on his face.

 

Anora simply sighed and turned her attention back on the trail.

 

“You’re only nine years old. Where in the world did you get your attitude from?” Loghain sighed, placing on his forehead to massage his temples.

 

“ _Maybe if you were home more often, you would know.”_ Anora thought, cynically. She gripped the reins on her horse, tightly. Urging her horse to go faster despite her father’s protests gave Anora a satisfying feeling even if the castle that loomed in front of her was just going to be another prison.

 

At least, for a time, she’ll be free.

* * *

 

King Maric, golden and handsome, greeted them where the gates were wide open. Her father got down from his horse first and bowed low in greeting. The King sighed at his old friend’s stiffness and gave him a hearty pat on the back.

 

“Really, Loghain? How many times do I need to tell you not to bow?” King Maric teased, his smile so inviting and Anora couldn’t help but give a small giggle on her own. At least someone has a sense of humor with her father.

 

The sound of her laugh caught the King’s attention and his light blue eyes lit up with pleasantry.

 

“Ah, and this must be the little daughter I’ve heard so much about and yet have not seen until now!” King Maric greeted, surprising Anora by lifting her up so effortlessly from her horse to the ground.

 

Being on the ground and looking up at the smiling King was a little intimidating, but Anora, being raised better than that, stood straight with the tutelage instilled in her.

 

She would not make a fool of herself in front of the King nor was she in the mood to hear her father’s lecture later. She already had enough of his “how to be friends with your husband-to-be” lecture from Gwaren to here.

 

Although, the King’s bright smile got wider when he saw Anora hold herself so properly in front of him, as if relieved that she wouldn’t be any trouble.

 

She bristled at that. Just a bit.

 

“Cailan!” The King’s voice boomed, “Come out here this instant. We have guests.”

 

Anora suddenly felt a little nervous. She had heard of this boy her whole entire life. Her life had revolved around his since she was born even though she never met him. She was taught how to act around him, taught how to be a companion to him, and taught how to rule beside him.

 

As if that wasn’t a burden to a nine-year old little girl.

 

But, whatever the great General Loghain wanted, it happened and here she was.

 

Her thoughts were interrupted when a little boy appeared at the King’s side.

 

He was young, just as expected. Blonde hair, sterling grey eyes that were said to mirror the late Queen Rowan’s, and pale skin that shone in the sun, Cailan Theirin looked…normal.

 

He also hid behind his father and looked at her warily.

 _That_ annoyed her. This… _this_ was what she prepared for her whole nine years of her life? What her father had forced upon her? When she was younger, she had thought it romantic when her father informed her that she would be a Princess and then a Queen. She had dreamt of meeting this Prince Cailan and had fantasies of how he would be chivalrous and charming.

 

And then, her mother died.

 

So, she grew up.

 

Her dreams and fantasies replaced with the reality of burdensome lessons and disappearances of her father. She was taught to be different, so she was. But, that’s what made the children shun her.

 

Ever since then, she dreamt of the adventures in her books, the comfort that she held on to. She could care less about the Prince. About being his precious wife.

 

All that she had to go through was because of him.

 

This shy little boy that you can barely call a Prince. He didn’t even greet her properly!

 

The lessons that were engrained in her head automatically kicked in once she saw her father’s glare, so she bowed and gave that perfect practiced little smile with a playful tilt of her head.

 

“Hello, Prince Cailan. My name is Anora, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” She greeted, _too_ pleasantly that she herself was taken aback.

 

But, then again, she had practiced this in front of her mirror at least ten times a day.

 

The Prince simply stared at her, his head slightly bowed and his grey eyes trying to look at everything but her.

 

“Cailan.” The King urged, a little exasperated.

 

Cailan gulped, visibly, and took a deep breath. “Hello, m-my lady.” He had smiled at her then, and she noticed how he trembled while doing so.

 

Pathetic.

 

Anora wanted to pull her hair out.

 

The King simply sighed and didn’t push his son any further. Instead, he looked back at them and smiled, “Well, then. Shall we?”

 

* * *

 

She had tried to befriend him. Okay, maybe not _try_ try, but she did, in a way.

 

She had caught him looking at her for the first two days and she had sighed when she found out that other noble children were visiting the castle for the summer festivities. They all had looked at her, weirdly, but she was thankful that they left her alone.

She did seek him out, but when the servants said that they didn’t know where he was, she didn’t press it.  She would try to walk around to see if he was around, but he was nowhere to be seen.

 

She did that for a week or so, but nothing. That is, until she heard children’s laughter in the distance.

 

“It’s not like I’m not used to this.” Anora muttered to herself with a sigh.

 

She had shrugged then and retreated to her favorite place: the library. She hasn’t left since, only when she had to eat, bathe, and sleep. Her father was too busy with the King to notice that his daughter was not befriending the Prince, so it’s not necessarily _her_ fault.

 

The library was starting to get a little closed in, so she decided to take her book to the infamous rose gardens that Queen Rowan used to tend to. She had been in awe when she was informed that the King had the garden planted just for her.

 

Maybe, they truly did fall in love, eventually.

 

She was no stranger to the infamous story of the Rebellion and the Deep Roads. Her father had told her everything, sparing no detail. It wasn’t hurtful to find out that he had loved someone before her mother because it wasn’t _that_ surprising. He had always walked around Gwaren as if a ghost was haunting him, no matter how much her mother made him smile.

 

And once her mother died, he proved that the ghost existed by leaving her for Denerim.

 

It had taken all his power for him to stay when he found out that Queen Rowan died.

 

Anora closed her eyes and clutched her book tightly against her chest.

 

_No, Anora. Stop it._

Taking a deep breath, she entered the gardens and found an empty stone bench that was hidden underneath a gorgeous willow tree. Deeming herself lucky, Anora sat on the bench and began to read where she left off.

 

She would be free one day. She’ll show her father that he’s not the only one wanting to leave.

 

The sound of children’s chatter made her groan softly, but she was determined not to move. She had found this place empty and she was not going to go back in the stuffy library on a beautiful summer day.

 

The sounds got closer and then they began to hush, meaning that they saw her, but she refused to acknowledge them. She was at a good part in her book.

 

“Cailan, come on. Let’s go already.” The snide voice of Thomas Howe caught her attention and she was tempted to look up. Yet, she was curious. She’s used to Cailan staring at her all the time when they were eating in the dining hall and looking away whenever she looked up at him. At first, it was annoying, but getting used to it became a pastime for her as she counted how many times he would look her way just to keep her entertained.

 

This time, Cailan seemed to want to lock eyes with her as he fidgeted from his spot in her peripheral vision.

 

“Uh, I don’t feel like it…” Cailan’s soft voice said, hesitant. Anora felt a small warm prickle of surprise in her mind.

 

Did he finally want to _socialize_ with her?

 

“Oh come on, Cailan. She won’t even bother talking to you. She’s, what my dad says, an _old hag._ ” Thomas sneered. The group of boys sneered with him.

 

Anora rolled her eyes. Clearly, these boys lack education. Or maybe, the summer heat was finally melting whatever is left of their tiny brains.

 

“You’re the Prince. It’s not like— “

 

Anora was tired of the interruption.

 

She stood up and walked towards them, quickly. Cailan was still facing Thomas, but the boys who were looking in her direction had paled once they saw her come into view.

 

“He said he didn’t feel like going.” Anora stated, coldly.

 

She felt satisfied once she saw Thomas pale at the sight of her. Little boys truly are stupid.

 

“Oh, wow, Cailan, I guess you need someone to help you talk.” Thomas sneered at Cailan, refusing to look at her.

 

Anora sighed, “Are you dense? He already told you he didn’t want to go. I simply repeated what he said.”

 

They group of boys had snorted at what she said, but they immediately clamped their hands over their mouth when Thomas glared at them.

 

With a simple ‘hmph’, Thomas turned around and led the group of boys away from the garden in annoyance.

 

Anora watched them go and sighed. Finally, she can get back to reading.

She returned to her perfect bench and picked up her book, continuing where she left off.

 

The shade of tree got darker and she looked up in curiosity of what caused it. Surprised, she noticed that Cailan stood next to her, shyly.

 

“Thanks.” He said, smiling at her. Anora, a little taken aback with the surprise and the suddenly talking prince, felt a little amused at the situation. The silence must’ve intimidated Cailan because a sudden redness on his face shown and she couldn’t help but smile.

 

She returned her attention to her book to see how the Prince would react. She expected him to return back to the castle and go back to just staring at her in the dining hall.

 

Her expectations were shot down when he sat down next to her.

 

“What are you— “

 

“Why didn’t you go with them?” She cut him off, hoping to intimidate him once more. Her eyes never left her book, but she could feel his stare on her and it was different now that he was so close to her.

 

She felt _vulnerable._ She hated that feeling.

 

Whatever happened to that shy boy that greeted her so poorly at the gates. More than ever, she wanted that boy, not this suddenly brave boy who talked to her eagerly.

 

Maker, why did she save him from Thomas and the other noble boys?

 

“My father said not to leave the gardens.” Cailan answered her. Anora, surprised at herself, felt a pang of sympathy. She heard the small bitterness in his voice and his annoyance twined in it. Her father was always like that, too. Ordering her about and not even checking up on her, it truly irked her. Especially when he didn’t show up until hours later.

 

“Smart.” She said, slightly turning towards him just to see his reaction, but thinking better of it, she returned her attention back to her book.

 

_Curiosity killed the cat, Anora._

 

“You think so?” Cailan’s soft voice wafted in her mind, hopeful. Anora wanted to kick herself. Why was he still here?!

 

“I said it, didn’t I?” She stated, hoping he would leave once he got his answer. The silence and him not budging made Anora a little aggravated. When will he leave?!

 

“What are you reading?” Cailan asked, after a moment. Anora sighed, guess he wasn’t going to leave any time soon.

 

“About the Grey Wardens. It’s a history book.” She answered, curtly but softly. He was simply being curious, she decided. Her father had told her once that the Theirins truly were “curious for their own good.”

 

“Can you tell me more about it?! I can’t read those type of books yet!” Cailan suddenly asked, excitedly.

 

Anora truly felt all the air being taken from her. In disbelief, she finally placed her book down and looked at him. His demeanor was different. Not shy and pathetic, but excited and happy as if their first encounter never happened and as if he never stared at her in the dining hall awkwardly. Truly, this was a different Cailan than before.

 

But, what really shocked her was the fact that he was happy about _history books_. She thought she was the weird one when the kids in Gwaren mocked her. She had always been interested in lessons and, although she hated to admit it, her father’s stories about the Rebellion were her favorite before she went to sleep once upon a time.

 

She sensed no sarcasm and no animosity from the young Prince and that confused her. Was there truly someone like her next to her?

 

“You want to hear about what I’m reading?” Anora asked, softly.

 

“Y-yeah! My mother used to read to me when I was a baby. That’s what the servants say, I mean. I don’t know…I k-kinda just like hearing about books and all.” Cailan mumbled, sheepishly, as if _he_ was taken aback with her talking to him.

 

He wanted to talk about books with her. The silly little Prince she had pushed aside wanted to sit and talk with her.

 

Anora could feel regret forming in her heart for the first time in her life.

 

She coughed as if to get rid of the tight feeling in her chest, reshuffling the papers in her book, “Well, I’m reading about the griffons and the Grey Wardens. So, what would you like to know?”

 

Was that desperation or hope in her voice?

 

She didn’t have time to focus on what it was because, Cailan, the Prince she had been taught about and wondered about, grabbed her hands and shone so brightly as he chatted on and on that Anora couldn’t help but want to be enveloped in his golden thoughts of griffons and Grey Wardens.

 

* * *

 

Ever since that day, Anora was introduced to a whole new side of Cailan. Instead of her seeking him, half-heartedly, he would immediately find her after he lessons, leaning on the column next to her door, smiling at her.

 

Anora couldn’t help but smile back and she would always be the one to grab his hand and run. And she never doubted that he would always follow.

 

They got into all kinds of mischief. Wine cellars and letting mabaari pups free were just one of many adventures that got their fathers screaming at them.

 

She had finally found a friend. Someone who didn’t think she was weird and someone who had the same basic interests as her. Sure, he was more interested in combat and her in politics, but she loved that he helped with combat just like she helped him with his political studies.

 

They talked about freedom. About not having their lives planned out for them. Even the marriage they both dread would seal their doom.

 

They had talked about it so comfortably and Anora couldn’t help but feel thankful for Cailan.

 

In time, they began to understand more of each other especially when it came to their fathers.

 

He had caught her crying on the stone bench in the gardens after a fight with her father.

 

“I just wanted to hold a sword. I wanted to train.” That’s all she had said to him and that’s all it took for him to understand.

 

That was when Anora, more than once, thanked the Maker for letting her save him from Thomas Howe that day.

 

He held her then, brushing the stray hair away from her forehead, placing a soft kiss on her forehead and rubbing her back, softly.

 

He let her cry and she let go, realizing that she finally just _be_.

 

It had been their thing since. To talk about their father issues on that stone bench was a daily thing for the King and Queen-to-be.

 

“It’s as if he’s hiding something from me and it’s bothering me, Ana.”

 

Ana. She loved hearing his nickname given to her. It reminded her that she wasn’t alone in the world.

 

“He’s a King. He holds many secrets, Cailan. He’s far better than my father. At least he shows you his love when he can.” Anora argued, placing a comforting hand on his neck, massaging him slightly.

 

Cailan leaned into her touch and closed his eyes, smiling.

 

“I’d rather have a father simply look disapprovingly at me than having one openly yell at me in front of everyone.” Cailan said, laughing.

 

If it was anyone else who dared to tease her about her issues, Anora would’ve sworn to make their lives miserable.

 

But, she laughed because it was Cailan. And Cailan was her best friend.

 

“One day, Ana, we’ll leave this place and we’ll have no rules for us. We’ll be free just like the griffons.” Cailan promised, fervently, grabbing a lock of her long platinum hair out of habit.

 

She had gotten up then and grabbed his hand, boldly. And he let her, always following.

 

She had snuck off once to practice combat training when she assumed everyone was asleep one night. It was dimly lit on the training grounds, but Anora was determined to get some practice in.

 

“Hey, Ana! Watch out!” Cailan yelled from behind her, and Anora reacted, quickly, not realizing what she had done.

 

She paled once she saw Cailan on the ground, wheezing. Panic took ahold of her and she hissed his name as she pounded his back.

 

 _I can’t lose you._ It was a mantra in her head.

 

“Cailan, you fool!” Anora repeated, trying to get him back up. Once his coughing subsided, he looked up at her, his grey eyes shining.

 

“Your father’s going to kill you if he ever found out.” Cailan wheezed. Anora paled even more and she began to bite her lip. Her father truly would kill her if he found out that she almost killed the crowned Prince.

 

“You’re not going to tell him, are you?” Anora asked, begging. Of course, she wanted Cailan to stop wheezing but that would mean telling her father. Maker, she was torn.

 

Cailan sighed, and smiled _that_ charming smile, “Of course not, Ana. It’s always you and me and our little secrets.”

 

He searched her eyes then, as if trying to calm her down. But, how could he calm her down when she searched his stormy grey eyes?

 

And, was he always holding her hands like this? When did his chest get so broad? When did he have _that_ chiseled jawline? When was he so…?

 

She blushed, suddenly, and she watched as Cailan noticed, immediately. The damn curiosity in his eyes got her embarrassed as she stood up, dusting herself off.

 

Cailan got up, and grabbed her hands immediately. If he noticed her being weird, he didn’t mention it.

 

He began to lead. And, for once, she followed.

 

* * *

 

They grew up from teenagers to young adults as close as ever, but, the reality of what their relationship was truly going to be happened on Cailan’s 18th birthday.

 

Anora had teasingly asked him what he wanted for his birthday.

 

“I have what I want.” Cailan replied, easily, placing his arms behind his head as his head laid on her lap. They were sitting on that stone bench, their favorite place.

 

Anora’s stomach had flipped at that.

 

“Really? And what is it that you already have?” Anora asked, cursing the curiosity that she got from him. But, she wanted to know with some insatiable hunger that had never left her since he grabbed her hand the first time he took charge of their adventures.

 

He had grown more confident and charismatic through the years. Also, just as handsome as his father. Noblewomen and servant girls were noticing and Anora would always tease him about it.

 

He would snort at her and grab a long strand of her platinum hair and say, “Don’t be stupid. We’re the ones getting married.”

 

That statement always made her heart skip a beat.

 

Not in the way that romance pertained to, but in the way that guilt panicked someone. She loved Cailan, but she loved freedom more.

 

She still craved it, even if being with Cailan subsided it for just a moment.  

 

“You, by my side.” Cailan stated, nonchalantly.

 

Anora could feel her heart break, but she forced herself to roll her eyes and push him off her lap.

 

Cailan laughed at her, and the guilt intensified.

 

“I’ll get you the best sword besides your father’s. Mark my words, Cailan.” Anora promised, fervently. Cailan, taken aback by her promise, nodded, slightly amused.

 

“I wouldn’t doubt it, Ana.” He said, warmly.

 

And she did get him the best sword. When she had taken him away from the political festivities that guaranteed him the heir of King Maric the Savior, she brought him to their stone bench and placed it in his hands.

 

Those rough, calloused hands that she began to notice that could hold her tiny waist---she shook her head, blushing.

 

Thankfully, Cailan was too busy adoring the sword to notice her. Once he was one appreciating his gift, he looked at her, his eyes shining and bright, unlike earlier when they were so dark and shadowed as his father announced his official heir title.

 

“I love you, Ana. I really do.” He whispered, placing the sword on his side, and gingerly taking ahold of her hands.

 

Maker, they fit so perfectly.

 

But, she couldn’t bear to lie no more. So, she simply smiled.

 

And, he smiled back, and she pretended she didn’t see behind it.

 

After his official coronation as the Prince of Ferelden, Anora began to feel the pressure of the impending marriage between them.

 

Her father was breathing down her neck, scolding her for skipping her lessons.

 

“You are to be his Queen, Anora! Maker, take your lessons seriously. You already have unnecessary calloused hands.” Loghain scolded her.

 

“I have been. If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been taking these lessons since I was born, but maybe, you forgot since you were barely home to begin with.” She retorted.

 

Ever since her friendship with Cailan, she began to feel bold and her father would dismiss her attitude now that he saw how well Cailan and Anora were getting along.

 

But, this time, neither Mac Tir was having it.

 

Loghain narrowed his eyes and walked up to his daughter who glared at him with his own eyes reflected back at him.

 

“I don’t know what game you think you’re playing, Anora, but I’ll make one thing clear since you still want to play dumb.” Loghain warned.

 

Anora bristled at that, but she stood firm, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

Loghain snorted and she hated her father for seeing right through her like he always did.

 

“The boy loves you. Adores you. And yet, you refuse to acknowledge it for whatever reason.” Loghain sated, emphasizing every bit that prickled at her heart.”

 

“I don’t refuse it. He just had to settle with me since this was arranged from birth or did you forget, father?” Anora retorted, trying to hide the fact that what she said hit close to her heart.

 

Cailan had simply stopped mentioning running away from the castle and what the outside world may be like. Whenever Anora would mention it, he would smile politely at her and listen, not mentioning what he thought of it. His smile, shadowed, like his eyes, was all she got.

 

She had to face it. Cailan had settled ever since his officiation with being the Prince of Ferelden while she was still dreaming about leaving the castle.

 

She was about to lose her best friend to the prison she swore to leave.

 

“Settled? Maybe so, but you are a fool, Anora Mac Tir, if you think the boy would ever let you go do your adventure dreaming.” Her father stated. He sighed and looked at his daughter, tired and weary, which took her by surprise.

 

“Duty over the heart will always be the best choice. And I bet at this time that Cailan, your precious golden Prince, will use that to keep you by his side.”

 

 With a sharp turn towards the door, Loghain left his daughter to ponder his words.

 

* * *

 

“He talked to me about it again.” Anora told Cailan, still staring at the weaponry before them.

 

She felt Cailan sit down on the bench behind her and could feel his stare on her.

 

“Talked about how it was time to stop fooling around and building unnecessary calloused hands. He said, ‘Anora, you’re going to be the new Queen of Ferelden. No more excuses.’” She sighed, “Of course, I couldn’t get a word in. Just kept on blabbering about how duty over the heart is more.”

 

She had added that part nonchalantly, but that was the part that bothered her the most. Would Cailan truly not let her leave? And if he didn’t let her leave, would she stay for him?

 

She loved Cailan, more than anyone in the world, but did she _truly_ love him as a wife would a husband? She wanted him to be happy and wanted him to be cared for, but could she sacrifice her dream for him?

 

And would Cailan want a wife and Queen who didn’t give him everything he would give her?

 

The sound of Cailan patting the seat next to him interrupted her thoughts and she turned around to see him holding out his arm for her to rest in. Her heart clenched at the need to be in his hold.

 

Maker, could her heart be any more confusing?

 

She obeyed her confusing heart and relished in his embrace as she placed her head in the crook of his neck.

 

He began to rub her arms and back, comfortingly, and Anora fought the urge to get up and run because she couldn’t dare to hurt him and disobey her heart when it cried for his embrace.

 

But, she needed to stop running. She needed to let Cailan know what she wanted and she needed to know what he wanted.

 

With a silent deep breath, she approached the truth that could change their friendship forever.

 

“Cailan, I want to run away. I want to discover who I am outside this court. But, you know, I could never leave you…I just... Tell me what to do. You’re my best friend. You know me better than anyone.” She whispered against his shoulder, closing her eyes as she felt him gulp.

 

He didn’t respond immediately. She waited patiently.

 

“Ana, stay with me. Don’t leave. I’ll make you happy to the point that you won’t crave anything else. Please, I…I need you.” Cailan murmured, pressing his lips against her forehead.

 

Anora wanted to sob. She wanted to push him away, angrily. She wanted to hug him and never let go and tell him that yes, anything for him, anything.  She wanted to scream at him for being selfish. She wanted to kiss him and thank him for loving her so strongly.

 

The memories of them together as children to now cut her, deeply, and the words that her father warned her with, ‘He’ll use duty over the heart to get you to stay,’ rang out in her mind.

 

And, he was right. No matter how many times she wanted to run away, she thought of Cailan. No matter how many opportunities she had to run away, she found herself looking for Cailan to get rid of it.

 

She always had a sense of duty even if she hated her father most of the time, she had a duty as his daughter. She hated political duty, but she had a duty as the future Queen of Ferelden drilled in her head. And now, she had Cailan.

 

He freed her in their prison by just simply being him and couldn’t just _leave_ him. Her Golden Prince who had saved her was now a captor of her heart in the sense of duty _and_ love.

 

Maker, she _loved_ him. For whatever reason, her love grew for him to the same level as her love for freedom.

 

Now, here she was, stuck with a decision that she had been dreading to make.

 

She felt Cailan’s pulse quicken against her eyelids and she felt her heart cry out in despair.

 

She looked up at him and smiled. He stared at her with those stormy greys, trying to read her.

 

“Okay, Cailan. For you.”

 

She placed her back on his shoulder and snuggled against the crook of his neck, but the damage was done.

 

He saw her smile. He saw _through_ it.

 

And, she bet he could feel the wetness against his neck as she lingered in his embrace.

* * *

 

She threw herself into the lessons. Wanting to ignore the guilt and despair in her heart, she avoided Cailan as much as she could.

 

It was supposed to be easy now, now that she made her choice, but she was still confused in what she felt for him. Some days, she wanted to throttle him for being so selfish and other days, she wanted to kiss him until they were both breathless and feel those rough hands caress her---

 

Anora groaned and slammed her hands down on her study table, her tutor looking up at her in surprise.

 

“I need a break.” Anora stated, through gritted teeth and left the room.

She had wanted to go to her room, but she found herself staring at the object of her confusing thoughts.

 

Wait, this wasn’t her room.

 

Anora wanted to kick herself. There, standing in the middle of the hallway, looking so achingly handsome and sad, was her husband-to-be.

 

He had his arms behind his back, a tattered book hanging loosely from his finger. With a shudder, Anora realized it was the book that they had studied so deeply when they were kids.

 

“Cailan.” She greeted, Maker, was her voice really that _cold_ , “It’s been too long.”

 

Cailan looked torn and Anora stood her ground even though she felt she was sinking in it.

 

“Ana— “

 

“Anora is more appropriate, Cailan. I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble.” Anora stated, practiced and poised. A sick, twisted feeling of triumph and sadness washed over her when she saw Cailan’s face fall.

 

_Yes, this is what you did to me. You forced me to choose you._

_No, I’m sorry, Cailan, I’m just angry._

Anora hated indecisiveness and she hated it now even more.

 

“Anora,” Cailan asked, carefully, “Would you like to accompany me to the training grounds or the garden?”

 

He held out a hand, gingerly, towards her, and Anora was again torn with the decision to slap it away or take it and never let go.

 

For once in her life, Anora was grateful to hear her father’s voice yell for her.

 

She saw Cailan about to cause some mischief and she felt pissed at herself for stopping him and even worse once she saw his face crumble.

 

“I have other business to attend to. I’m sorry, Cailan.” She apologized.

 

She turned away before she could see his face fall even more.  

 

She turned the corner and leaned against the wall, placing a hand on her beating heart.

 

She wasn’t supposed to turn back, but she did. And, just like every other damn decision in her life, she regretted it as soon as she saw that he was still standing there, hoping and waiting.

 

Once he gave up and retreated, Anora stared at his hunched back, numb and broken, all the same.

 

* * *

 

King Maric was gone. Lost at sea, dead. Maker, dead.

 

Anora didn’t even need or want to listen anymore. She ignored her father’s insistence and pushed everyone away from her.

 

She only had one goal: Find Cailan.

 

Cailan, Cailan.

 

She finally reached his door and hesitated. They hadn’t talk since the day she left him in the hallway. Did she have a right to comfort him?

 

She brushed that feeling away and entered his room, trying to justify her actions.

 

_I’m his best friend. I’m going to be his wife. His Queen. He needs me._

 

That even sounded pathetic in her mind. Her heart mocking her.

 

“Cailan,” She called, softly, “Cailan, are you here?”

 

She saw shuffling in his bed and heart clenched when she saw him pull a blanket over his head.

 

“Not now, Anora.” His voice, so cold and curt, cut her. Anora closed her eyes. She deserved this.

 

But, she couldn’t leave him. Not anymore.

 

Tears began to build in her eyes as she remembered his hunched, retreating back.

 

She approached his bed, quietly. Grabbing the blanket, she pulled it aside and noticed how Cailan didn’t even fight her.

 

His face, his charming and smiling face, was gone, replaced with misery and sorrow. But, his eyes, those haunting eyes, stared at her with a brokenness that mirrored her own and all she wanted to do was hold him.

 

“Hey,” She whispered, “Is there room for one more?”

 

She watched as his eyes widened. “Anora, I don’t think— “

Anora hastily placed a hand on his mouth and she felt all the annoyance that hindered them being together fill in the determination that made her say the next words, “I’m tired of thinking, Cailan. Let’s just…Let’s just be Cailan and Ana again. Just this once.”

 

Cailan must’ve sensed her sincerity and tiredness. He pulled her into his embrace without hesitation. Burying his head in the crook of her neck and breathing deeply, he didn’t say anything.

 

Neither did she. Because, what right does she have to say anything anymore when all she does is hurt him?

* * *

 

Cailan called for her into his study. The study that once belonged to his father. They hadn’t talk since the day they held each other because of the funeral and Landsmeet that followed.

 

So, when he called her, Anora didn’t know what to expect.

 

She walked in, and she was greeted with his back facing her as he stared into the fireplace behind his study.

 

“Close the door behind you.” Cailan ordered, softly. A little awed by how he knew she was there, Anora obeyed.

 

He turned to her then and Anora’s breath caught in her throat. He truly looked… _kingly._

 

His golden hair was trimmed and he had a bit of facial hair from the neglect due to the festivities. He stood straight and his eyes were blank.

 

The golden crown on his head seemed heavy.

 

“We have something to discuss.” Cailan finally said, carefully, his eyes never leaving her.

 

Anora shuddered, what did he want to talk about? Their upcoming marriage? How they simply don’t talk anymore? Do they even know each other anymore?

 

“I have a brother.”

 

Anora’s eyes couldn’t possibly get any wider, so her mouth slightly dropped.

 

“W-what?” She uttered, softly, in disbelief.

 

Cailan nodded, with a sigh, “I’ve known since my 18th birthday. Father told me after the festivities. He believed that I had a right to know. As if I didn’t have a right to know before.”

 

Anora could sense a bit of sarcasm at the end. It sounded foreign to her coming from her once happy-go-lucky Prince.

 

“Does…Does my father know?” She asked, not knowing what else to say at the moment.

 

Cailan shrugged, “I’m pretty sure he does, but that’s the least of my worry. My brother was staying with my Uncle Eamon; in a _fucking_ barn I might add. He was sent to the Templars when he was young due to my Aunt Isolde’s…annoying stupidity. He’s with the Grey Wardens now.” he smiled at that, his eyes looking at her’s.

 

Anora was in too much shock to smile at the insider they shared.

 

“Cailan…how? When?” Anora muttered, breathlessly.

 

Cailan crossed the distance between them, carefully taking her hand to lead her to the chair in front of his desk.

 

Once he was happy that she was settled, he knelt in front of her, taking her hands. Anora tightened her hold on them, which made Cailan smile softly.

 

“My father left me when I was five to go back to the Deep Roads to help the Grey Wardens with a mission. Remember? That’s why you and your father came to live with us in the first place. Your father was afraid my father would go in a third time without letting him know. Anyways, my father met someone, an elven mage who also happened to be a Grey Warden, and, well, that’s how my brother was made.”

 

“H-how is that possible? Grey Warden have the taint, making it impossible for them to conceive!”

 

“My father told me that, for some odd reason, the taint had left this Grey Warden. My brother was possible because of it.”

 

Anora, forgetting her proper training, slumped in her seat in shock.

 

“…What are you going to do?” Anora asked, finally getting some of her thoughts back.

 

Cailan sighed and stood up, still grasping Anora’s hands, tracing his thumb in circles over her smooth hands. She began to feel embarrassed, noticing his disappointment over her missing callouses.

 

“I’m not threatened nor am I willing to meet him after such neglect from the people in his lives. He didn’t deserve to be in a barn nor did he deserve to get thrown into being a Templar. I feel…ashamed that I can’t do anything for him now.”

 

“You didn’t know, Cailan. It’s not your fault.”

 

“…My heart yearns to know him, you know? I didn’t realize that I wanted a sibling until I found out about him. I sneaked outside to see him, observe him. He looks exactly like me, weird I know, but comforting at the same time.”

 

Anora couldn’t help but laugh, softly.

 

Cailan softened at that and stared at her, longingly. Anora tried to look away and even got her hands out of his grasp.

 

Cailan seemed to waken at that, also, and resumed his proper stance, placing his arms behind his back.

 

“His name is Alistair. Pretty noble name.”

 

“Why did you tell me this, Cailan?” Anora asked, curiously. Cailan’s eyes darkened and he took a step towards her. She took one back, a little taken aback by his boldness.

 

“You are going to be my…wife. And you were, once upon a time, my best friend, Anora. You have every right to know. Also, just to let you know about him, since my enemies could possibly use him in the future to threaten me and I just wanted to make sure that I at least still have someone by my side.”

 

The last statement sounded like a question and Anora’s heart broke at that. How could she have not seen how lonely he was?

 

Suddenly thrown into kingship without a trusted friend, she was the worst.

  
She closed the space between them as she placed a small kiss on his rough, stubbled cheek.

 

“I’m always by your side, Cailan.”

 

With that said, she left his study, her heart pounding.

* * *

 

He was drunk on their wedding night, so nothing had…happened. It was an emotional night and Anora understood her husband’s difficulty throughout the festivity.

 

 _Husband_.

 

Maker, it finally happened. They were married and they were King and Queen of Ferelden. She had held him until he fell asleep, her hands smoothing his hair out of his face. He looked so vulnerable and scared.

 

Since the day he called her to her study, no, since the day she saw him waiting for her in the hallway, Anora felt her heart pound when her thoughts were of him.

 

All she thought of was how to comfort him and how to be good to him. She never once thought about…leaving.

 

The realization hit her like running into a brick wall. Wait, she never thought about leaving anymore.

 

The shocking realization had made her stop stroking his sleeping face and her heart began to pound at the thought.

 

Had it finally happened? Did her love for Cailan outgrow her love for freedom?

 

She had looked at his sleeping face as she turned the thought over and over in her head and then she smiled, widely.

 

Yes, yes, she had.

 

She can finally become Cailan’s, once and for all.

 

She was eating her breakfast the first morning of her married life and she knew Cailan was going to have a nasty hungover, so she asked the servants to prepare a meal that could help him get through the day.

 

Cailan had entered the dining hall, a little disheveled, and Anora smiled at that. She had missed his sloppiness in a way.

 

“Good morning, dear husband.” Anora greeted, softly.

 

His grey eyes snapped towards her, shocked and surprised. It took him a moment to let her words sink in, and Anora felt amused and satisfied at his awkwardness.

 

But, it only lasted a moment, because it was her turn to be taken aback when his eyes darkened slightly and the corner of his lips turned upwards in a smirk.

 

“Good morning, my love.” He returned the greeting, smoothly and, did she dare speculate, _seductively_.

 

Anora shuddered, slightly, but she kept her head up and tilted affectionately towards him. Cailan, suddenly shy, lifted an eyebrow at her with a questioning gaze.

 

“I think a kiss is appropriate to greet your husband with.” Anora stated, mirroring his gaze, teasingly. She knew he was even more shocked at what she said, but the darkening in his eyes made much more sense when he came closer.

 

Cailan didn’t have to be told twice as he closed the gap between them.

 

* * *

 

Anora panted in his ear as she grasped the items on his study to keep her from moving so much.

 

“What if someone comes in?” She gasped as his tongue dragged lazily on the column of her neck.

 

Cailan snorted, “You make it seem like we’re doing something evil, Ana.” His hands, those rough calloused hands that she dreamt about, were pushing against the fabrics of her dress, exposing naked flesh for his greedy lips.

 

Ana. Maker, it felt so good to hear that again.

 

His hands had found her breasts at that point and Anora moaned, softly.

 

She brought her arms up and buried one of her hands in his golden mane while the other trailed down his own clothing.

 

“Not _evil_. Just inappropriate.” Anora argued back, ending her tone with a gasp as his mouth replaced one of his hands on her breast.

 

“Like we’ve done appropriate things since we were young.” Cailan mused, sarcastically, letting go of her breast and she groaned in complaint.

 

“You know what I mean, Cailan.” Anora stated, her body trying to ignore the feel of his manhood against her thigh.

 

He didn’t reply as he began to trail his finger down, deliciously, her body until it reached that part of her that craved him the most.

 

She moaned at the sensation, embracing the euphoria her husband was placing upon her.

 

Their lovemaking had always been this intense. Maker, their first time had been on the damn throne. She could remember her riding him, turned on by the fact that her first time was with the King of Ferelden on his fucking throne.

 

Cailan had insisted to be gentle with her at first, but she was impatient. She just realized how much she loved him and she wasn’t able to hold it in anymore.

 

When he insisted as he gently placed her on their bed, she whispered of how she imagined his hands on her since he held her close to him.

 

That did the trick. He had thrown her over his shoulder and in the throne room they had went.

 

This time wasn’t any different. A Landsmeet had just ended, and she loved it when Cailan wanted to blow of some steam in this manner.

 

Once he made sure that every nobleman and noblewomen had left, he grabbed her by the waist and crushed him against her until he was sure she was out of breath.

 

Now, here they were, about to completely come undone on his desk.

 

“You won’t be complaining _now._ ” With that said, Cailan swiftly entered her and Anora arched her back in complete ecstasy.

 

After it was over, Cailan helped her stand on her unsteady legs and sat on the chair with her on his lap, both of them basking in their nudity and the after effect of their lovemaking.

 

“You need to stop being so risky.” Anora admonished, her voice light. Cailan chuckled, placing a small kiss on her forehead.

 

“You need to stop being so uptight.” He teased back, playing with a platinum strand that fell on her face.

 

Anora swatted at him, playfully. Cailan caught her hand and placed a warm kiss, staring at her flushed face.

 

“I love you, Ana.” He whispered, tucking the stray hair behind her ear.

 

“And I you, my love.” Anora whispered, her answer traced on his lips as she kissed him, breathlessly.

 

 

* * *

 

“You need to think about the country, Cailan. We need an heir. Your Queen can’t provide you one. It’s as simple as that.”

 

“We’ve only been married for only a small amount of time. You make it seem like you and Aunt Isolde had it easy with conceiving.”

 

“Watch your mouth, young man.”

 

“ _No_ , you watch your mouth with your King, Uncle.”

 

Anora couldn’t bear to hear it anymore. She left her hiding place and returned to her shared room with her husband, shutting the door with a heavy thud.

She sat on their bed, her eyes blank and her heart heavy. She placed a hand on her flat stomach and began to curse softly.

 

What had given her the right to think she could help Cailan when she couldn’t even give him a child? Ferelden needed an heir. No matter what she did, politically, it didn’t matter.

 

And, the dreaded feeling she hadn’t felt since she met Cailan came back.

 

He was going to leave her. He had to. Or she had to make him.

 

Her heart began to break and that’s when her father’s words haunted her once more.

 

“Duty over the heart is always the best choice. Silly, silly Anora.”

 

And with those words, Anora shut her heart’s voice off, refusing to listen to the silliness anymore.

 

* * *

 

He couldn’t look at her in the eye anymore. And neither could she at him.

 

She received comfort with the person that had caused her this tragedy in the first place by arranging the stupid marriage, but she could sense herself in her father.

 

Her father had hugged her and gave a gentle pat atop her head, “Duty over the heart, Anora. Safest bet in the world.”

 

Duty over the heart.

 

Was it really that easy once you already have given your heart away?

 

The mistresses could scorn all they want and the servants could pity her, but Anora was hurt by the fact that Cailan ran away from her.

 

A part of her wanted to say how dare he run away when she didn’t, but another part of her knew it was her fault when she pushed him away, when she had dared to suggest it.

 

But, when he announced his leave for Ostagar, Anora couldn’t bear it anymore.

 

She was beyond angry and hurt, all the emotions she bottled up exploding once they were alone in that war room.

 

But, when he began to confess his apologies and his regret, Anora did the same, revealing all her weaknesses. Not caring if she was vulnerable anymore, she missed him.

 

Craved him.

Loved him.

 

He had always been open with her, showing every weakness and every strength, and this time, she wanted to give him that in return.

 

He had left her the next morning, embracing her and reminding her of silly promises, not even promising to return even though she made the promise herself.

 

He had smiled at her then. But, she saw through it. Was this how he felt when she smiled at him the night she had chosen to stay?

 

She shuddered at that. Everything had a way of coming back to her.

 

She watched as her golden husband, her best friend gallops away and her heart clenched.

 

She wasn’t ready to say goodbye, yet her weary heart was begging her to.

 

Even then, she refused.

 

* * *

 

The doctor had told her the impossible.

 

She didn’t know whether to react to it, immediately, so she kept it to herself, making sure she was awake.

 

But, then, her father had told her another impossible.

 

She had collapsed then in grief, clutching her stomach, throwing up on the carpet. The golden carpet that he and her had once…

 

She tried to look away, somewhere else that wouldn’t remind her anything of him, but it was impossible.

 

Especially when a part of him was already growing inside of her.

 

Her father talked about the brother, Alistair, of how he was a threat to the throne and she was just so tired of hearing about tragedy.

 

She didn’t even bother to act surprised about the fact that her father knew about Alistair. She was tired of pretending.

 

“Enough. I’m going to sleep.” Anora stated, tiredly. She left the room, her father’s gaze never leaving the war table.

 

The very same war table that her husband and him had planned on.

 

She went into their once shared room and stared at her reflection.

 

Maker, she looked terrible. Dark circles under her eyes and her hair lacking any care. She still wore the same purple dress the day she found out her husband was taken away from her.

 

She decided to sit on the bed, and it wasn’t long before darkness took over her.

 

 

* * *

 

The blood was the first thing she noticed. It pooled around her, and was she screaming? Or was it someone else?

 

The door to the bedroom flew open and servants came rushing in, and they were horrified at the sight of their gorgeous Queen, bathed in blood.

 

“Someone call the doctor! Quick!” One of them ordered, taking charge. Erlina was by Anora’s side, immediately.

 

“My Queen, what has happened?”

 

“Erlina, the baby…I…His baby.”

 

Erlina didn’t bother to show her surprise at the sudden pregnancy as she helped the servants clean Anora.

 

The doctor came in, hurriedly, shooing the servants away and prying Anora’s legs open, quickly.

 

He hissed and sighed for a while as his hands tried to figure out what was going on in the midst of the bloody sight.

 

Everyone held their breaths as they watched the doctor work, hoping and praying to whichever faith they believed in.

 

The doctor looked up at Anora, whose eyes were wide in despair.

 

He shook his head, “I’m sorry, my Queen. I am too late.”

 

She began to sob.

 

“No, no, no, no, please. No, I can’t lose this child. I can’t lose _him_. _Please._ ”

 

She began to thrash around and it took every willpower of all the servants to stop her.

 

The doctor quickly took action and pricked her with a sedative and Anora could feel the medicine in her veins.

 

“I can’t lose him. I can’t.”

 

And all she could see was the pitying looks surrounding her before darkness took over.

 

* * *

 

She sat on the throne, unmoving and unblinking.

 

Rumors swirled about of some Grey Warden and the bastard of Maric Theirin were coming to Denerim to stop the Blight and to take the throne. They didn’t talk about griffons, though. She had thought that, sarcastically, and had turned to her side to voice it, but her amusement died as soon as she realized who else had died.

 

Her father took it upon himself to lead, and Anora found herself too weak to fight it especially with the pregnancy.

 

But, now.

 

Now, she has nothing left to lose. Literally nothing besides her crown.

 

She had duty first, but Cailan came along. She had then chosen her heart over duty, but now, look where it has gotten her.

 

It was better with duty. Her father was right.

 

Duty over the heart.

 

Anora closed her eyes, and placed a hand on her beating heart, and took deep breaths.

 

She opened her eyes, and felt a cold sensation of her heart being locked up.

 

Cailan had told her to remember Alistair, but in order to forget Cailan, she must forget Alistair. She must forget her promises. Forget what it was like to have her heart over duty.

 

Forget Cailan.

 

And, with one last breath, Anora (neé Mac Tir) Theirin rose.

 

It was time to play nice and look pretty once more.

______________________________________________________________________________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A:N// THE END.
> 
> So, I’m kind of curious as to see how you guys interpret the ending because when I was writing it, I couldn’t help but think that it had multiple meaning.
> 
> Other than that, I hope you enjoyed! I truly do. Don’t forget to review and fav. It would mean a lot to me .


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